


My Old Friend

by paperbackwriterfromnowhere



Category: The Beatles
Genre: Drug Abuse, Drug Use, F/M, M/M, blood tw, death tw, hospital tw, just in describing john's injuries/feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-27
Updated: 2017-01-27
Packaged: 2018-09-20 06:27:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9479390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperbackwriterfromnowhere/pseuds/paperbackwriterfromnowhere
Summary: December 8, 1980, John Lennon is shot outside his apartment building and rushed to the hospital in the back of a police car. The doctors almost lose him twice, but he stablises and survives.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my beta stonedlennon & thank you for encouraging me to continue with this!

Things finally seemed to be going alright with Yoko and after a very relaxed recording session, he just wanted to say goodnight to Sean. He heard the gunshots before he felt the pain, continuing to walk, thinking maybe he’d gotten away. Suddenly, the pain was _blinding_ and the stairs rushed up to meet him. There was a white room, not unlike the one he had in his home a few floors up, but inside it was Sean, Julian, Yoko, and Paul. They were all gathered around in a semi circle; they all looked so sad. Sean was crying, hiding under pillows on the couch.

“What’s wrong with you lot?” John asked, laughing. His smile turned into a grimace, clutching his chest in pain. There were noises-- electronic beeps of machines like the ones he’d heard in the hospital with Yoko when she was pregnant. He looked up and everything was gone. He was surrounded by doctors who were yelling things he couldn’t quite hear. It all sounded so far away.

It was the scariest thing he’d ever experienced. Their shouting only seemed to get louder and more aggressive as he looked on, them realising his eyes were open. 

“Wha--” he tried to speak, gurgling and coughing. The tangy taste of metal filled his mouth and suddenly, everything went black again amidst curses and nervous sounding vioces. The only thing he could make out was _“We’re losing him!”_

Two days later, heavy lidded eyes opened to the familiar blur of his vision, though the room itself did not seem familiar at all. 

“Yoko?” he croaked out. But she wasn’t there.

“She’s with Sean at home. She needed sleep and Sean was a wreck,” said an all-too familiar voice that he hadn’t expected. “How’re ya feelin’?”

“Like I’ve died a horrible death and come back…” he smirked, looking over at Paul.

Paul smiled uncomfortably, nodding, his hand on his chin, elbow on the uncomfortable arm of the chair. “Well, that’s probably because you _did_ ,” he said, a somber look on his face.

The gravity and truth registered with John and he nodded, his smile fading a bit. “Yoko? Sean? Are they alright?”

“They weren’t involved. You walked up a couple stairs and passed out… I gotta let the nurses know you’re awake… don’t go anywhere,” he smiled. John smiled back, though he didn’t dare move. So Yoko and Sean were alright physically. That was a good thing. He cringed trying to take a deep breath, biting his lip with a groan of pain. 

Paul sat back down as the nurses rushed in, the doctor following not long after, fussing over John. Paul’s eyes, red and puffy with tears, never left John’s face as he was bombarded with question after question. When it became clear he was getting more than agitated, Paul shifted in his chair. When they continued to pester him, Paul piped up, nearly growling, “Is that all for now, doctor?”

He gave Paul a look and turned back to John. “We’ll get you some medicine for pain and let you rest a bit,” he said shortly, turning on his heels and heading out of the room.

“Fuckin’ wanker, that one,” John said, his voice hoarse and raspy with unuse. 

“Yeah, he’s been a right ball of bloody sunshine.”

Neither of the two said anything as the nurse appeared, clearly trying not to be starstruck, though she continued to be professional and administered his medication without so much as a second glance at either of them, until she stood up to leave. Paul gave her a wink and with a flushed face, she nodded back and hurried out of the room.

“She’s been lovely,” Paul said with a grin, looking back at John, smile faltering. “You had us all scared out of our heads, mate,” he said, voice suddenly shaky as tears threatened again.

John noticed the subtle change in Paul’s features, of course he heard the shake in his words, and he frowned, swallowing thickly. His mouth was dry and tasted of blood still. His tongue slid over chapped, pink lips trying to get some moisture to them. “I… what the fuck happened? Do you know?”

Paul nodded, with an even shakier voice, he explained what had happened. How a fan had pulled out a gun and fired at him. How he’d made up some stairs, how Yoko had called for help and he’d been rushed to the Emergency Room in the back of a police car. How he’d died not once but twice clinically. Once in the ER, once on the operating table, and how they’d gotten him back, but just barely so. How the doctors said he wouldn’t come out of the coma he was in, and how he knew that John was strong enough to pull through.

After moments of silence, where Paul had no idea what else to say, John asked the question he feared the most. “Where’s Yoko? Why isn’t she here?”

“Yoko was here… with Sean and May… did you um… did you know she was using heroin again?” Paul asked quietly, his tone careful.

John took in a shallow breath and nodded. “I knew… yeah… I thought she was cutting back… is she alright?”

Paul gave a small shrug. “She had gone home to take care of Sean after you came out of surgery. When she came back with him and May… she was fucked up, Johnny… she was fucked up bad. We had a row after May left with Sean and I paid for a cab for her back to your place, I don’t know if she got there or not, but she was in a bad way… I told May and she said she’d call Yoko’s friend to come and look in on her… I haven’t, um… I haven’t left your side since then…” he said softly. “I couldn’t,” he said, voice cracking as tears fell down his face. 

John frowned again and leaned his head back, eyes closing. “What about me glasses?” he asked, in typical John fashion, avoiding the more than serious issues at hand.

“Broken… May brought yer back up pair. They’re ‘round here somewhere…” Paul trailed off looking around the room and standing with a groan for the first time in somewhere around nearly twenty four hours. He found the black plastic rimmed _Buddy Holly look_ ones and smiled, knowing the reason May chose that specific pair. He moved over to place them gently on John’s face, smiling uncontrollably at the memories. They were a couple prescriptions off, May warned, but for John, anything was a vast improvement from nothing.

“Thanks, Paulie,” John said quietly, sighing quietly.

“They look good on you. Lots of memories with those things, eh?”

John smiles a bit and nods a little. “Very good, indeed… Paul… I, um… I’m so sorry… for everything. I was a fuckin’ dick.”

Paul smiled sadly and even laughed a little. “Yeah… ya were. I was, too, though… we’re both dicks.”

“Just a couple o’ dicks, sharin’ a laugh, eh? Like old times!”

Another small laugh from Paul as he sat on the edge of the bed on John’s good side. Without another word, he took John’s hand in his and gave it a small squeeze. “Johnny… you know I love you, right? Always have…” he said in a voice so quiet it might as well be a whisper.

“‘Course I know. I love you, too,” he said, laughing to make it a bit less emotional. 

“No, John, I mean… I really love you. I love you in the way that I wanted to marry you, I just… it didn’t feel like the right time. But now, I know there’s no better moment than now to tell you. I am completely, utterly, madly in love with you, and the thought that you almost left this world not hearing me say it sober… not hearing me _really_ tell you… it’s been eating at me this whole time… I don’t know what this means, but Linda’s on board with whatever happens. She supports us, y’know? She always did… poor lass, no idea what she’d stepped in between,” he laughed, biting his lip.

John didn’t speak for a moment, he had known, he supposed, but hearing it from Paul’s (sober) lips brought out a flood of emotions and he couldn’t help but break down in tears.

“Oh, hey, no… don’t… I didn’t mean to upset you, John,” Paul said, suddenly regretting everything.

“No, no it’s not that… I love you, too. I-- I’m _in_ love with you, too. I want to be with you. I always did. I wanted everything to be with you… I’m not exactly sure where to go from here, but, either way, I don’t want to cut you out again. I felt like I’d died a worse death than getting shot, which, believe it or not, hurts quite a bit,” he said with a sorrowful laugh. “Whatever happens, we can figure it out, Macca. No more stupid, bloody egos to deal with. Just us. We’ll be alright,” he smiled.

“I can’t wait to work on it with you, old friend,” he smiled, leaning a little, about to press a kiss to John’s lips, but something stopped him before he moved barely an inch-- intuition perhaps?

Yoko walked in, not looking at Paul, but at John and gave him a smile. “What are you two going to be working on?” she asked, sitting on the edge of the bed, closer to John than Paul as the younger man stood up. 

This was going to be hell, wasn’t it?


End file.
